


It's a Wonderful Life, Seth Rollins

by PrecariousSauce



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - It's a Wonderful Life Fusion, Character Death, Gen, Heavy Drinking, Kayfabe Compliant, Suicide Attempt, Vomiting, potential canon divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 01:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8647288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrecariousSauce/pseuds/PrecariousSauce
Summary: Seth's many many MANY regrets finally catch up with him at midnight on Christmas. He decides that the world is better off without him. An angel wearing a familiar face has a different idea.





	

**Author's Note:**

> 1) I don't actually know if Seth still lives in Davenport and I was too afraid to seem creepy by looking it up so if he doesn't let's pretend this is an AU where he still does.
> 
> 2) I am not presuming anything about Mister Colby Lopez's actual home life and relationship with his family, who I assume are lovely people– Seth Rollins the Character has an essentially nonexistent kayfabe backstory outside of the standard "indie wrestler who Made It", so I've filled in the blanks myself.

Seth Rollins was supposed to be on a plane right now. 

He was supposed to have spent an awkward and silent Christmas Day with his family to compound on the awkward and silent Thanksgiving he’d spent with them last month and the awkward and silent Christmas Eve he’d spent with them yesterday, being looked straight past and only spoken to when his father needed him to grab something from the kitchen. He was supposed to have picked up his already packed bags, spent a moment telling his dog that he was going to miss him and that he’d better be good, gotten on his plane and flown to where they were holding the post-Christmas Raw. He was supposed to have checked into his hotel room after a flight Seth deliberately wouldn’t sleep through and have passed out as close to the bed as he could get, since falling dead asleep from exhaustion was the only way Seth could guarantee he wouldn’t dream.

Seth had not done any of that.

Instead what Seth had done was wake up on Christmas morning, get dressed, walk his dog, and when he had come back inside stare at his car keys for ten minutes straight before walking into his kitchen and grabbing every single bottle of alcohol he could find. He had proceeded to drink through about half of that supply in his living room, stop because he had to go vomit in his backyard, then brought the rest of it up onto the roof of his house’s second story and kept going up there.

Now, at eight pm, Seth was just finishing the very last beer that had been in his house. Seth chucked the bottle off the roof with a loud grunt. As he watched it sail over his neighbor’s fence and land in one of their plants, Seth lamented his bad luck that he wasn’t getting any of the fun side-effects of drinking. He never really did– Whenever Seth drank alone all it made him was more and more upset with every sip. 

Seth drank alone a lot these days. It had become something of a holiday tradition. 

The first time, it had been 2014 and Seth had overindulged just because the fine champagne he could afford with Authority money was so damn good and not at all because he’d spent the week remembering he wasn’t going to Pensacola this year. He’d forgotten the deafening silence of Davenport after the last few years, so he drowned it out by taking loud gulps, popping the champagne as messily as he could and trying to sing “Sweet Caroline”. 

The second time, it was 2015 and Seth was drinking away the pain of an injured leg and a vacated title. He’d looked at his phone every ten minutes, hoping for a message from Stephanie, from Hunter, Hell he would’ve settled for J&J or even the goddamn New Day. At midnight he’d gotten the customary polite and lifeless text from his mother telling him to have a Merry Christmas he’d gotten when he was in Florida and that’s when Seth reached for the bottle.

Now in 2016… When he was at three bottles downed, Seth had blamed it on the fact that he kept losing at his title opportunities and Stephanie had stopped giving them to him, and at this rate he’d start sinking down the card until he was thrown out with the rest of the lower-midcard trash, and Hell getting blind drunk was at least more entertaining than sitting around pretending his family cared about him.

When he was at six bottles downed, Seth had blamed it on himself, how he’d lost a step after coming back from the injury and wasn’t good enough anymore. He’d never been good enough– he’d never been _good_. He’d just been persistent and loud and willing to throw anyone and everyone under the bus to delay the inevitable moment when that bus hit him. But it hadn’t worked here at home. It had barely worked on the indy circuit. It was bound to stop working in the big leagues sooner or later.

Then at thirteen bottles, as he was vomiting onto the grass and his dog was sitting next to him looking on with his head cocked to the side in concern, Seth had remembered something. He’d remembered hearing Roman talking to someone on the phone backstage and completely ignoring Seth as he stood right behind him. 

He hadn’t just been talking to someone– He’d been talking to Dean.

Despite Dean being on Smackdown, despite Dean having tried so hard to cut all ties at Battleground, despite how Roman and Seth’s occasional collaborations were definitely weighing on Dean’s mind and whatever was going on with Dean and Ellsworth was doing the same for Roman… Dean and Renee were still going to Pensacola for the holiday.   

That had been about the point where Seth had started crying.

Success and money had been very good insulation against regret. So had anger and frustration, dozens of professional sycophants, and the miles and miles of denial and justifications that were the real secret to Seth’s success rather than his intelligence or skilled planning (both went flying out the window whenever Seth panicked). 

He didn’t have a title. His pay was getting cut as Stephanie lost more and more of the shine she’d taken to him. He didn’t have any sycophants, he barely had a family, and he didn’t really have any friends.

And for the first time in two years, Seth couldn’t draw up a single reason explaining why that wasn’t all his fault. 

The icy wind blew through Seth’s hair as everything started slipping out of his grip. He’d listened to Dean describe how he felt when “shit gets bad in [his] head” (whatever the Hell that actually meant psychologically)– Everything receded. Everything he saw, heard, everything but what he could feel with his hands felt like it was coming from miles away. Seth reasoned he was as close to that as he could get, because the only thing that felt clear and real to him right now was the feeling of his roof underneath him. 

For being called the architect so often Seth didn’t really know that much about his own house– he didn’t know what this roof was made of, for starters. He didn’t even really know how high up he was right now. Seth’s eyes slowly slid down and fixed themselves on the ground. If he fell off he probably wouldn’t die. He’d jumped off higher things than this wrestling and survived. That was disappointing.

Seth stopped feeling the cold as his brain worked at a slow, methodical pace. He remembered reading somewhere that most people died falling from four or five story buildings at the least. The only buildings that high he could think of were in the middle of downtown. The only one whose roof he could get onto was a hotel. That would be just like him– making a huge scene and ruining everyone’s day in one graceful motion.

Seth got up and made his way back down to the first story of his house, putting on a sweatshirt and shoes like this was the most normal thing in the world to do. He stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder– his dog was asleep on the couch. Good. Seth wasn’t sure what he’d do if the poor little guy had come over to him right then. He almost wanted to go over and say goodbye. 

Instead, he turned and as quietly as he could slipped out the door.

The trip downtown usually wasn’t very long, but the fact that Seth was finding it difficult to walk in a straight line made it last a good half-hour longer than it should’ve. He also only saw where he was going a good half the time, which didn’t help matters. But he was able to make it downtown and into the hotel. He took just a moment to stand in the entryway; this was a nice place. It was just like him to ruin its’ reputation.

Hotels were more like home to Seth than his own house, so finding the service stairwell to the roof and going in without being seen took him less than no time at all. Actually _climbing_ the stairs was the real challenge. Trying to walk casually and normally with his hands in his pockets resulted in Seth nearly falling on his face twice, and once _actually_ falling on his face. He swallowed his pride, grabbed onto both railings, and started his slow climb again. 

Seth hadn’t taken his phone so he couldn’t know for sure, but by the time he reached the roof he guessed it was probably almost midnight. He’d deliberately chosen the side of the roof facing the parking lot on East Fourth Street– sure, this was a dead-end city in _Iowa_ so everyone was asleep, but there was still less chance someone would see him over here. The wind was harsher and colder at this height, but Seth really only knew that intellectually; the numbness had set in all over his body. Seth briefly wondered if it had ever gotten this bad for Dean.

He took his time walking to the edge of the roof. He wasn’t sure if he had a match tomorrow on Raw, but considering how things had been going he really didn’t care. On a good day he wouldn’t care. The only thing that had kept him coming back was the possibility that maybe, just _maybe_ , trying to ruin Kevin Owens’ title reign would bring out Hunter. But he was starting to accept the inevitability of that not coming to pass.

Hunter didn’t care about Owens, and in this state Seth could finally accept that Hunter never cared about him, either.

He was at the edge now. Eleven stories was a long way up in theory and now that he was here it was a long way up in practice, too. He’d jumped off cages and entryways but he’d never jumped off anything this high. 

This would be one Hell of a bump to take. 

He took a deep breath in, held it for a moment, then let it free in a long sigh. Seth lifted his foot–

A terrifyingly familiar voice chirped from beside him, “Uhm, that’s really not a good idea.”

Seth almost lost his balance and fell off right there. He barely managed to right himself and stagger backwards while the person beside him leapt just a second too late to where he’d been, arms that had intended to close around his waist going through thin air. Seth stared at her and her dark eyes ringed by eye makeup he always thought was too intense for someone so nice stared back at him.

Standing on this roof, two thousand miles away from where Seth knew she should be, was Bayley. Even more surreal was that Bayley wasn’t wearing street clothes but rather a set of ring gear Seth had never seen on her before, pure white all around interrupted only by black boots. She wasn’t even wearing her entrance jacket or a t-shirt– why?! Even as drunk as he was Seth knew it was absolutely freezing out here.

Seth had a million questions, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a sputtered, “Bayley?!”

She blinked at him twice before standing up straight with a smile; “Oh! I should probably explain this right now– I’m not _actually_ Bayley, not entirely anyway. I just kinda picked your brain for the person you think is most like an angel in terms of how they act and look and stuff and I’m sort of… borrowing that so you feel more comfortable with me.” 

Seth squinted, slowly shaking his head; She was saying she wasn’t Bayley but everything about how she structured her sentences, how she was futzing with her hands, how she was swaying from foot to foot since she had energy to spare, and how she smiled that dorky smile was exactly like her. It wasn’t even “like” her– it was too perfect _not_ to be her. 

Seth’s mouth fell open and he exclaimed, “What are you _talking about?!_ Why are you _here_ in _Davenport_ talking about angels and–?!” Seth cut himself off, raking his hands through his hair. Those sealed, untouched bottles of liquor had to have been spiked with something because this couldn’t be real. He was having a pre-suicide hallucination, those things he just made up happened all the time, right? Whatever was going on had snapped him out of that comfortable numb haze into a cold, crisp reality he couldn’t accept.

Bayley put her hands on her hips with a frown; “Like I said, I’m _not_ Bayley. My name is–“ She stopped abruptly, scratching her head and looking away, “Actually I don’t think you could pronounce it.”

Seth on reflex snorted and countered, “Oh yeah? Try me?”

Bayley smirked softly; “I had a feeling you’d say that. Well, here goes…” 

Bayley stood up straight, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and when she opened her mouth a Sound came out so deep and loud that it shook each and every one of Seth’s bones individually and made his eyes rattle in their sockets. He could feel his blood in the thinnest of his veins vibrating at the same frequency as this Noise as it traveled all the way down from the roots of his hair to the soles of his feet. Seth struggled to find earthly comparisons to the Sound and all he could come up with was a corrupted recording of several human voices mixed with the sound of a hundred bells and gongs being rung underwater.

When the sound finally petered out to a silence punctuated by every dog in a three mile radius howling its lungs out and every part of Seth stopped shaking, he ran his hands the rest of the way through his hair and wheezed, “Alright… You got me.”

The thing that looked like Bayley’s laugh was at once calming and unnerving; “Yeah, that usually gets people believing pretty quick.”

Seth slitted his eyes in a glare, snapping, “Don’t put words in my mouth– I’ll buy that you’re not really Bayley, but I’m only half sure that you’re real. And if you are there’s a million things you could be before being an angel.”

Bayley’s (thinking “The thing that looked like Bayley” every time took too long and thinking of her as “Not Bayley” felt silly) eyebrows shot up; “Really? What _else_ could make a sound like that?”

Seth threw his hands in the air; “An alien?! Some kind of robot?! Some fucker with five subwoofers and sound editing software I don’t fucking know! It’s way the Hell more likely you’re any of that shit than an angel!”

Bayley crossed her arms over her chest; “Why’s that?”

Seth barked out his harsh and grating laugh; “Don’t they get cable up in Heaven? Or maybe God’s not a wrestling fan! That’s gotta be it because there’s no fucking way you can’t know,“ Seth threw his arms out wide, “I’m the biggest scumbag in the WWE, baby. They’ve got a spot reserved special for me down in Hell– No angels give a shit about me because I’m a lost cause.”

Bayley frowned hard, eyes swimming between sadness and a fiery determination identical to how she looked going into her title matches; “I don’t believe in lost causes.”

Seth just had to stare at her– that was so achingly authentic that even remembering the sound she’d made he could hardly believe it wasn’t Bayley staring him down right now.

Either way, Seth sunk down to sit on the roof and sighed, “Well you’d better start believing because there’s nothing you can do for me. If you really wanna do the world a kindness or whatever the Hell angels are into you’d be better served pushing me off.”

Bayley padded over and sat down beside him, remarking, “Dying right now wouldn’t solve anything. It’d actually create a lot of problems– You’re booked for Raw tomorrow and they’d have to explain why you’re missing. Lots of people are coming there just to see you. They wouldn’t be able to do a show with your death hanging over the whole thing.”

Maybe on another night that would’ve brought Seth back to reality or at least appealed to the showman in him– He always liked stealing the spotlight, but he wouldn’t want to steal it by ruining it. But tonight that just made Seth laugh again, leaning back further and further and further until he was lying on the roof. Bayley just watched him, brows furrowed and mouth still screwed into a frown, concern twinkling in those deep dark eyes.

Seth’s laugh tapered into a wheeze, “That’s just like me, huh? I’m in too deep… Only way to solve everything would be if I was never born at all.”

Bayley heaved a sigh; “Seth, you’re smart. You know that’s not true.”

Seth snorted; “That’s what everyone says, huh? I’m _smart_ , I’m the _Architect_ who’s always got a plan. What a load of bullshit. Sure I make plans but I’m the one who wrecks them– I see weakness or a problem and I just. Panic. Sure when it’s done I can lie and make excuses but that’s all they are. I wreck everything I touch. I threw away the best thing I ever had because I thought it’d make me better but look where I am. Look where we _all_ are.”

Bayley cocked her head to the side in a passable impression of his dog; “Come on now, that’s not fair. Roman’s United States Champion right now– That’s something!”

“Yeah, and when he gets back stage after defending his title he’s back to being that awkward fuck who can’t make a friend to save his life I met in FCW,” Seth scoffed, “The only people he talks to are his family on the phone. The rest of the time he’s just… alone. I know that’s weighing on him. And _Dean_ god– He can’t get the championship back from Styles and he’s playing second fiddle to _Ellsworth!_ They’re both better than this! All three of us are better than this! I knew that. That’s why I wanted us to work together, because I knew together we were stronger and we could make each other better… But I threw that all away.”

“So why would it be better if you were never born if the three of you are better together?” Bayley asked. 

Seth, as always, had a justification ready; “Maybe I was wrong… They’re good. They’re _really_ damn good. Better than I ever was. They could’ve made it alone. When I broke us I left wounds that I don’t think healed. Maybe they’d be better if I didn’t leave them at all.”

Bayley sighed again, looking up at the stars; “This isn’t gonna work… I didn’t want to do this, but I guess I’m gonna have to.” 

For the first time since she appeared on the roof, Bayley touched Seth. It was just a light hand on his shoulder, but the minute she made contact Seth felt something _Snap_. Not in his body, not in his mind, somehow in both and neither at once. The texture of the roof beneath him in an instant was drastically different and the sky was twice as far away as it had been. The temperature went from a freezing thirty degrees to a balmy sixty, Seth could hear cars, people, the ocean, and it took Seth a minute to notice the most important thing.

He wasn’t on a roof anymore, but rather on the ground.

Seth shot up into a sitting position; “What the fu–?! Where–?!”

Bayley smiled as she hopped to her feet; “We’re at Raw tomorrow night, in a world where you were never born. Come on, let’s get going! I got us good seats!”

Seth’s mind went completely blank. 

He opened his mouth to talk but no sound came out. 

He closed it, opened it again, same result. 

It took Seth two minutes to say, “… Huh?” Bayley rolled her eyes, yanking Seth up off the ground; once she did, Seth finally got a good look at where they were. 

The building was unmistakable– they were behind Tampa’s Amalie Arena. Seth had been past this place so many times in FCW on his way home, gazing at the round banks of windows as they gleamed in the city lights. Early on he’d given Bayley a ride back to her place on a day when Raw just happened to be there. The two of them had pulled over on the street and sat on the hood of Seth’s car until all the wrestlers had left and every last fan had scattered off into the darkness. They had just stared at the arena, wondering when it would be their turn.

Logically, that dream felt petty and small after the Wrestlemanias and Madison Square Gardens Seth had been in. But he still remembered being that scrappy kid dragging his way up through the indies and slaving away in developmental and that scrappy kid was losing his mind that _he_ was going to perform _here_ , the place that had for those very important years represented the glitz and glory of being on the main roster…

… Or, he supposed, if what Bayley was saying was true he _wasn’t_ going to perform here. He’d never perform here.

“This can’t be real,” Seth whispered.

“You’re only half right,” Bayley remarked, “Let’s get going before someone takes our spot.” 

Just like that Bayley was tugging him along so hard his arm was threatening to come out of its socket. She didn’t drag him to the front entrance but rather to a service entrance, taking him through the winding, nondescript white and concrete halls that seemed the same in every venue. They’re the reason he’d gotten lost backstage more times than he’d like to admit. 

Miraculously, they didn’t pass any wrestlers on their way through, only regular staff. Seth thought he saw Tom Phillips and Michael Cole, but Bayley was pulling him along at too fast a clip for him to confirm it. More importantly than what Seth was seeing was what everyone backstage wasn’t seeing. Them. All the staff’s eyes never once landed on these two interlopers, the flow of people parting and coming back together around them like they were a rock in a stream.

“Why’s everyone ignoring us?” Seth wondered, craning his neck around to get as good a look as possible while being pulled along at twenty miles per hour.

“We don’t exist here,” Bayley replied simply, “That makes us as close to invisible as we can get; people may notice us if they look directly at us or we bump into them, but they’ll forget us just as quickly– Watch.”

Bayley veered off her straight course over to the makeup station, tapping a woman with long brown hair on the shoulder; “‘Scuse me.”

The woman turned around and Seth nearly jumped out of his skin. Stephanie. Stephanie McMahon was looking right at the two of them. Seth almost went running the other way, but Bayley’s grip on his wrist was airtight and she anchored him to the spot. His heart rate slowly went down as he realized Stephanie wasn’t glaring at the two of them or asking them what they were doing here and not in the locker room. She was just looking at them with a raised eyebrow.

“Do you know what time it is?” Bayley asked, beaming wide.

Stephanie checked her phone; “Five fifty. Why?”

Bayley shook her head; “Just wondering. Break a leg!” With that, she pulled Seth away just slowly enough that he could watch Stephanie turn away with a shrug, ignoring their exit completely and going back to whatever it is she’d been doing. Stephanie had looked at them like they were some no-name caterer or member of the lighting crew– No, even lower. She’d looked at them like they were absolutely no one. An indignant part of Seth flared to life, insisting that he was _not_ no one and that he had to go back and make her realize just who the Hell he was.

“Don’t bother,” Bayley said, snapping Seth back to reality, “Remember? You _are_ no one here.”

Seth blinked rapidly; “How did–?!”

Bayley grinned over her shoulder; “The same way I’m able to impersonate Bayley so well, remember?”

Oh. Right. She wasn’t really Bayley. He had to keep reminding himself of that. If she really had cobbled together this Bayley guise out of what Seth knew of her, he guessed he knew her better than he thought because this thing kept fooling him with every step she took.

After what at once felt like an eternity and three seconds, they finally made it out of the backstage area into the stadium proper. People were flooding in and without fail they moved around Seth and Bayley like they weren’t even there. For all he’d fought for the attention, evidently he’d taken it for granted because he couldn’t help the way his skin crawled as each pair of eyes just slid over and past him. 

Bayley took him all the way up to the cheap seats at the very top of the arena, and Seth just had to wrinkle his nose; “ _This_ is what you call ‘good seats’?” 

Bayley plopped down in the seat closest to the aisle; “The people who bought these tickets aren’t coming tonight. One of them got sick and the other one thought it wouldn’t be fair if they went and the other didn’t. They’re staying in and watching Raw on tv– Raw’s not even their favorite show, anyway. Just the one that was coming to Tampa. Now if it were _Smackdown_ that’d be another story.”

Seth sat down beside her; “So the brand split still happened.”

Bayley laughed, “You changed a lot by not existing, but you didn’t change _that_ much. It would take a lot of changes to make Shane not come back and keep Smackdown and Raw from going after each other again.”

Seth raised an eyebrow; “A lot, huh?”

Bayley smirked, leaning forward so her elbows were propped on her knees with her chin resting on her hands; “There’s a reason I brought you to the show, Seth. You’re gonna have to wait and see!”

Seth frowned and opened his mouth to speak again, but something in Bayley’s smirk told him she wasn’t gonna answer any questions right now, so instead he just leaned back in his chair and waited. He supposed Bayley had deliberately brought him through the back so he couldn’t catch sight of who was supposed to be wrestling tonight, leaving him in suspense. One thing definitely confirming she wasn’t the Bayley he knew– She had a sense of showmanship but her flair for the dramatic wasn’t quite _this_ intense.

It wasn’t long before the pre-show started up with a match between The Shining Stars and Golden Truth– so far, so normal. Then, a match between some of the Cruiserweights Seth didn’t recognize (for whatever reason they kept to themselves; the only one he knew was Rich Swann, because it was hard _not_ to know who Rich Swann was) went on. Seth’s eyes were _just_ starting to glaze over after a cruiserweight vignette when his mind snapped back into focus at the sound of a loud _Let’s Go!!_

“What the _Hell?!_ ” Seth shouted, almost jumping to his feet as of all people _Sami Zayn_ was in the _pre-show_ going up against– who _was_ he going up against? Seth looked across the ring and nearly leapt out of his seat. Was that _Jinder Fucking Mahal?_

Seth’s head whipped back and forth between the ring and Bayley; “What in the f–?! What is _Sami Zayn_ doing on the _pre-show_ fighting _Jinder Mahal?!_ He’s a million times better than that!”

Bayley nodded; “Yeah. I know that and you know that. But without you and Dean coming up in The Shield, Vince never realized that maybe these kids from the underground actually can be top-tier players, so _he_ doesn’t know that. Honestly it was a miracle that Hunter was able to get him to agree to the Cruiserweight Division.”

Seth could only blink; “Are you serious?”

Bayley sighed, “He’s been out of touch for a _long_ time.”

Seth leaned back, half watching the match as he asked, “So… What does NXT look like?”

“It’s smaller,” Bayley replied, “I mean, in terms of people in it. People still love it, it’s still a breath of fresh air, but the Authority’s current champion has stopped the momentum of so many rising stars and Vince has given them so few opportunities that no one wants to come up to the main roster. If they have to they do everything they can to get into Smackdown. People just sort of go into NXT, then right back out into the indies again. On the plus side, New Japan and Ring of Honor are getting bigger with more people staying or coming right back!”

Seth raised an eyebrow; “What about TNA?”

Bayley blinked at him; “What _about_ TNA?” He supposed that answered that question.

The main show began with the customary pyrotechnics display and a roar from the crowd. The noise never stopped sending a pleasant, familiar shiver down Seth’s spine. It had been years since he’d heard it from here in the crowd. It felt like coming home.

That feeling died the second the titantron turned blue, an ominous beat accompanying the words _I Am Phenomenal_.

Seth turned to Bayley; “AJ’s on Raw?”

Bayley shrugged; “He wasn’t going back to TNA after the Bullet Club threw him out. And Vince can ignore a lot of things but he couldn’t deny how big a star AJ was.”

AJ Styles didn’t even bother with his usual shtick during his entrance, instead storming down to the ring with a scowl Seth could see even from this far away. The raucous cheering from the audience had no affect on his mood, though Seth suspected the cause of it had something to do with the lack of a title belt around his waist. He only paused at the side of the ring to reach underneath, pull out a steel chair, and toss it into the ring ahead of him.

The minute he got into the ring his music stopped, the microphone went up to his mouth and AJ roared, “I have had _enough!_ ”

Seth jolted back like he’d been pushed; he’d never heard AJ anywhere _near_ that furious, not even with Dean and Ellsworth making a joke of his title run. 

“Last week was the _last straw,_ Jericho,” AJ continued, facing towards the entranceway, “The two of you keep dodgin’ me and makin’ a fool out of me and it ends _now._ One way or another I am _taking_ that title and I am gonna _break_ your ‘monster’. So…” AJ picked up his chair, unfolded it in the center of the ring, and sat down, “I’m not leavin’ this ring until you both come out.”

Seth couldn’t help but lean forward– They hadn’t had much time in the ring at Survivor Series, but there had been chemistry when Kevin and AJ had collided. Now _this_ would be something to see. Out of the corner of his eye, Seth noticed Bayley shaking her head. Any attempt at wondering what that meant was interrupted by a loud scream of _BREAK THE WALL DOOOOWWWNNNNNN–_

Seth’s eyes immediately narrowed when Chris Jericho walked out alone. He looked absolutely _nothing_ like he remembered; for one, he was wearing a _shirt_ under his suit-jacket. He was clean-shaven, with no list or scarf in sight, and instead of a scowl on his face Seth could see a smirk that made him want to run down and Pedigree him onto the ramp.

Once the chorus of cheers and half-hearted boos died down, Jericho remarked, “AJ, the holidays aren’t over until New Years, so in that holiday spirit of giving I’m going to give this to you straight… The reason we’ve been playing with you and avoiding you is simple. You just aren’t worth our time.”

The boos went up to the ceiling and Seth almost wanted to join them. 

In the face of the crowd and AJ rushing the ropes, Jericho laughed, “Hey now, it’s not all bad news! I _can_ tick off some items from your Christmas list, even if it is a day late. I’ve spoken to Stephanie– You’re booked for the main event. If you win, you’ll get a _chance_ at that title… And in that match, you’re _definitely_ getting a monster.”

Seth and Bayley both sprung backwards in their seats at the earsplitting roar that raged from the speakers. A mountain of a man stalked out to stand behind Jericho, making the living legend of the business look like a child as he loomed above him. 

“And if you _lose_ that match,” Jericho sneered, “This monster, _Braun Strowman_ , gets that title shot instead.”

The boos almost eclipsed the sound of Jericho’s theme as he swaggered back behind the curtain, leaving Strowman and AJ to glare at each other across the gulf between the stage and the ring. This time, Seth didn’t even bother resisting the urge to boo along with everyone. Bayley was quiet, taking advantage of their near-invisible status to take a couple small handfuls of popcorn from the people next to her and toss them in her mouth.

The match on next was The New Day versus Breezango– Another change. But this tag team match did bring up yet another question.

Seth looked over at Bayley; “Where are The Club?”

“Over on Smackdown,” she replied around a mouthful of popcorn, “Shane thought they deserved better than what Stephanie was giving them when they debuted so since Zack Ryder wasn’t around to be part of the Hype Bros he took The Club.”

“Wait– Ryder’s _gone?_ ”

Bayley swallowed her popcorn with a nod; “He was almost a top guy, since you and Dean weren’t there, Daniel Bryan still had to retire and CM Punk still left. Zack had a chance at the world heavyweight championship, but his title match was over in less than three minutes. It was in his home town, too. After that he just fell lower and lower down the card until he decided he’d had enough and quit two years ago. I think he’s with TNA now.”

Seth’s eyes turned back to the tag match but he wasn’t watching it. That was… depressing. He hadn’t really _liked_ Zack but he wouldn’t wish _that_ on him. Owens was one ruthless champion. 

Beside him, Bayley sighed.

After a vignette Seth half-watched (something about Stephanie and Jericho discussing the main event and the upcoming Royal Rumble), Titus O’Neil came out for the second match of the night. Seth had never really spoken to him, so he supposed it made sense that he was still around. And he was a football guy, not an indie wrestler– He was safe from that particular fallout.

Seth’s reverie was interrupted by some guitar riffs he should not have been hearing. Seth blinked rapidly, shook his head– No. This had to be someone else.

It was exactly who the music claimed it was. Kevin Owens made his way down to the ring, no title belt to be found on his person, and Seth would’ve shouted if he had the wherewithal to form sentences.

By the time the bell rang Seth finally sputtered, “Kevin’s not the champion?!”

Bayley raised an eyebrow; “You should’ve guessed that when you saw Sami.”

“And Balor…”

“Is still with New Japan.”

Seth put a hand to his chin; “Then… Who’s the champion?”

Bayley shrugged; “You’ll have to see for yourself. He’ll be ringside during the main event.”

Seth scowled at her; “Do angels have a thing for suspense? Because you’re enjoying this way too much.”

Bayley pursed her lips; “I’m not really dragging this out for the suspense. I just really don’t want to be the one to tell you.”

Seth’s heart dropped into his feet. Well that was… ominous. Without a word he leaned forward, elbows on his knees and chin on his hands, and watched carefully.

The show rolled on. The segments and matches of the women’s division were the same as they would be any other night if any other male wrestler happened to have never been born. The men and women of the roster essentially lived in two separate worlds now, those worlds colliding only for very brief moments that were few and far between. Seth’s eyes drifted between the Bayley wrestling in the ring right now and the one sitting beside him; he decided that was a damn shame.

Seth’s spirits dropped with every match. Cesaro and Sheamus lost to a tag team of Mark Henry and some wrestler Seth didn’t even recognize. Neville was shoved into the void of dead crowds that the Cruiserweight Division apparently inevitably became in every timeline and lost to the one wrestler Scotland had loved. Rusev beat down a Big Cass with no Enzo in sight to retain the United States Championship. In between all of that Renee interviewed AJ, Jericho, and Strowman and got shouted at every single time.

Seth frowned behind his steepled fingers; “Bayley.”

She turned to him with a shit-eating grin; “Yes, Seth?”

Seth sat up straight and looked her in the eye; “This show fucking sucks.”

The grin turned into a grimace; “Yeah, it’s pretty terrible. Don’t worry– We’re almost done.”

Seth rubbed his temples; “Three hours is way too damn long. It’s like this _every week?_ ”

“Every week for the last few years.”

Seth threw his head back with a groan just as Strowman’s music hit. The gigantic man marched out to the ring, as surly and driven as Seth remembered. AJ fought through his frustration to make his proper entrance, but he didn’t smile once and the referee had to keep him from pouncing on Strowman before they’d even rung the bell. Seth frowned. Bayley said the champion would be at ringside but he was nowhere to be seen. What was taking him–

Two notes. A pause. Two more notes. A pause.

Seth had memorized it, not because it was _his_ theme, but because it had been _their_ theme.

He could barely hear the ring announcer call, “And coming to ringside accompanied by Chris Jericho, he is the WWE World Heavyweight Champion, _Roman Reigns!_ ”

You could hear the booing all the way in Georgia. 

Seth suddenly felt like he was going to vomit.

Everything about Roman looked wrong. He was dressed wrong, his hair was wrong, the way he moved, the look on his face, every single piece of him was _wrong_. 

Roman wasn’t dressed in the combat gear he’d kept even after The Shield had fallen apart, but rather in a perfectly tailored pitch black suit with his title slung over one shoulder, the red, white and gold accents the only hint of color in the whole outfit. His hair was tied back, the way Roman kept it when he was doing everything _but_ wrestling. He was walking to the ring at a pace Randy Orton would call glacial, ignoring every fan and even Jericho at his side in favor of staring down AJ and Strowman… And that was where Seth hit his breaking point.

Seth had heard Roman described as “stone faced”. Anyone who believed that had to be either not paying attention or simply stupid, because Roman had one of the most expressive faces Seth had ever seen. Roman’s face was always showing everything he felt loud, bright and clear, even when he was _trying_ to be stoic and neutral. The only way Roman could ever hide how he felt was to feign another emotion or cover his face up entirely. Seth knew him so well that the tiniest twitch or tensed muscle could tell him exactly what was on Roman’s mind.

This Roman… Seth looked at his face and saw absolutely nothing.

Seth slowly turned to Bayley. She stared back at him, her face caught somewhere between simple pity and a sadness so deep it threatened to swallow him up.

“I didn’t want to tell you…” she whispered, before forcibly shutting her mouth and turning back to the ring. 

Seth’s eyes were locked on Roman as he made his way around the ring to one of the two chairs at ringside, completely ignoring the commentators as he sat and leaned forward, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth in a pose almost identical to the one Seth was in right now. Jericho took up the spot at the announce table proper, put on a headset and proceeded to probably be very entertaining on commentary, but Seth could hardly be concerned with that.

Seth watched Roman as he watched the match and struggled to put everything together. Roman was the champion. That wasn’t difficult to comprehend, he’d been champion before. But he had never been the ruthless champion Bayley had described, knocking rising stars out of the sky for no better reason than Hunter or Vince had told him it was best for business. The very _idea_ of Roman working for the Authority was enough to make Seth’s stomach twist.

Bayley spoke up, her soft voice barely audible above the crowd; “I don’t know why you’re surprised. Didn’t you see it coming when you first met him in FCW? He was strong, but green, and since he had family in the business he’d trust management. They’d take advantage of him and groom him into their perfect champion.”

That had been _exactly_ what Seth had thought as he’d watched Roman in FCW. And he’d seen that Roman wouldn’t want that. That he wouldn’t be satisfied with that. That he could be a good wrestler with them but a _great_ wrestler if he grew without their influence, a great wrestler _and_ a great person to have your back in this cutthroat industry. That had been the clincher, and that had been the moment Seth had walked over and introduced himself.

He knew this could’ve happened. He’d seen it coming, he’d caught all the symptoms and the signs. But he couldn’t stop shaking as he watched Roman, completely still as he studied the match.

The match. What was happening in the match? Honestly, he didn’t want to know. But Seth had to think about literally anything else before he ruined their near invisibility by throwing up. He looked back just in time to see Strowman catch AJ out of a Phenomenal Forearm and slam him down onto the mat with all the ease of a child throwing a ragdoll. 

AJ was a better wrestler than Strowman, that was just a fact– Hell, it was just a fact that AJ was better than a good seventy percent of wrestlers living and working today. But there was only so much skill and ability could do in the face of a man twice your height and at least one and a half times your weight who absolutely _did not stop_ until his opponent was as close to dead as he could get him. 

Apparently, AJ didn’t give a damn about that. The match took up half of the show’s final hour as the much smaller but much better man got up from everything the giant threw his way, throwing just as much back with added interest. For a moment, Seth started to believe in AJ. Maybe his hard work and experience _would_ pay off and the better man would win. The crowd went wild for everything AJ did– Maybe their energy would give AJ the second wind he needed to make his final push for the pin.

It didn’t.

Seth couldn’t even peek through his fingers as Strowman smacked AJ down one last time and pinned him in the center of the ring. The crowd was a roiling sea of livid people and they only got louder as the referee raised Strowmans’ hand. Seth took his hands off his face just in time to catch Roman move for the first time since the match began.

Calmly, fluidly, Roman stood up. He tossed his title so that it hit Jericho emblem-first in the stomach and probably knocked the wind out of him (those damn things were _heavy_ ). He began walking towards the steel steps to the ring, removing his suit jacket and letting his hair down as he moved. Seth’s heart skipped a beat– that hadn’t changed. But what was Roman _doing?_

He answered Seth’s question by Spearing Strowman across the ring right into the corner.

The whole audience gasped– Roman turned his terrifyingly blank face to the referee, who skittered out of the ring like the place was on fire. Roman stalked back to the center of the ring and grabbed a fistful of AJ’s hair, dragging him almost up into a standing position. He looked pointedly over at Strowman, a statement to this new challenger to watch and pay close attention.

What happened next was an absolute massacre.

Roman tore AJ apart, throwing him from one end of the ring to the other, stomping him nearly through the canvas, beating on him in the corners and on the ropes, smashing the man’s back onto the apron (Seth gritted his teeth as he felt the phantom pain from all the times Kevin had done the same to him), dragging him all around the ring and into every part of the barricade until the two of them were on top of the announce table. Seth could just barely make out Michael Cole and Byron Saxton looking horrified as they clustered over near the timekeeper. Jericho and Corey Graves looked absolutely delighted.

Roman looked over at Strowman one last time; Seth thought he saw something like fear on the big man’s face. Roman’s hand still gripping his hair was the only thing keeping AJ anywhere close to standing.

That hand went from AJ’s hair to his throat and Roman chokeslammed AJ through the table.

Seth had to turn his entire body to look at Bayley; “ _What the Hell was that?!_ ”

Bayley had completely wilted, eyes fixed on the ring, and simply said, “Roman was The Undertaker’s last match. Nobody has seen him since.” 

The Undertaker. 

Roman Reigns had destroyed The Undertaker. 

He had destroyed him _and_ stolen one of his signature moves. 

Seth felt light-headed.

Roman’s stride back up the ramp was just as calm and slow as the walk down had been, only now Jericho was following him with the title and shouting all sorts of things at Strowman and AJ he doubted they could hear over the sound of the crowd’s outrage and Roman’s theme blasting from the speakers. Strowman’s eyes were locked on Roman, who didn’t even spare him a second glance. AJ lay in the wreckage of the announce table, definitely unconscious. 

Roman disappeared behind the curtain and Bayley stood up; “Alright. We’re going backstage.”

Seth had the presence of mind to furrow his brow; “How are we gonna get back there through the crowd?”

Bayley shook her head; “We’re taking a shortcut.”

She placed a hand on Seth’s shoulder and everything _Snapped_. The crowd and music in Seth’s ears went from deafening to muffled, the darkness of Gorilla replaced the darkness of the cheap seats, and the people beside them turned from fans to staff. Seth nearly fell over with the chair disappearing from underneath him, but Bayley managed to catch him and shove him into standing up straight just as Roman walked past. She didn’t take her hands off him, and that was wise, because if her hands weren’t there to keep him grounded Seth would’ve leapt at Roman and… He didn’t know what. Shook him? Hit him? Asked him how the _Hell_ this had happened? Just sort of stared at him? He had no idea what to do with any of this.

Bayley carefully guided them forward, shadowing Roman and Jericho into the back just far enough away that they wouldn’t be noticed but just close enough that Seth could hear Jericho ranting and rambling about how Roman would _destroy_ Strowman next week on Raw and how the Royal Rumble would be fantastic because Roman was going to run straight through Shawn Michaels ( _Shawn Fucking Michaels_ they were going to feed him _Shawn Michaels_ what in the Hell was Hunter thinking) and whoever won the Royal Rumble–

Roman’s hand thumped against Jericho’s chest, stopping them both in their tracks; “Jericho.”

The deep rumble of Roman’s voice drowned the whole backstage in silence. All eyes were on Roman, everyone holding their breath in anticipation of what he’d say next.

Jericho gulped; “Yes?”

Roman’s face finally moved, pulling into a harsh glare; “Leave.”

Jericho promptly handed Roman the belt and ran the other way. Roman slung it over his shoulder just in time for Renee to come creeping up, cameramen behind her and a look of complete terror on her face. 

She nearly dropped the microphone as she asked, “M-Mister Reigns, what motivated you to do _that_ to AJ Styles after the match?”

Renee and Roman had been friends since their earliest interviews, Renee smiling bright and Roman playfully flirting while Dean absolutely seethed with jealousy. Even after The Shield had broken up, he remembered seeing Renee and Roman chatting backstage. Renee had been invited to Roman’s wedding, no doubt filling the space Seth had left on the guest list. 

He had never seen her shaking all over just because he was this close to her, microphone almost slipping out of her sweaty hands. He had never seen Roman just _stare_ at her– No. He was staring _through_ her.

After a solid minute of silence, Roman leaned down and growled, “Strowman thought he could outmuscle me. Strowman thought he could intimidate me. I showed him he thought wrong.”

Without another word, Roman continued on and Renee signaled for the cameras to cut. The second they did, Renee let out a long, shuddering breath, hand on her chest as she sunk down to sit in a nearby folding chair. Seth wanted to veer off their course, ask Renee if she was alright, but Bayley gently pushed him along and they kept following Roman ever deeper into the back. 

If Bayley and Seth were a rock and the regular staff and wrestlers a stream flowing around them, Roman was Moses and the people were the Red Sea. Nobody dared get in his way, scurrying to the side yards ahead so they didn’t even chance it, and stayed glued to the wall until he was out of sight. Roman passed by the open door to the men’s locker room, and even that barest sight of him was enough to make everyone inside go stock still and silent until he was gone. 

As they came nearer to the door, Seth could hear Kevin grumble, “Who does that greasy fuck think he is, anyway?”

“The Authority’s golden boy, which is exactly what he _is_ ,” Sami sighed, “I know that look, Kev. You saw what he did to the Undertaker– challenging him isn’t smart.”

Kevin scoffed; “Well how the Hell am I gonna even get the _chance?_ I had to go against Titus Goddamn O’Neil tonight!”

“At least you weren’t on the _pre-show_ ,” Sami muttered.

“I hear Smackdown’s going to pull a raid on Raw,” Cesaro chimed in, “Trade some of their jobbers for us.”

“God I hope so,” Kevin sighed, “If Roman doesn’t literally murder whoever he’s up against Jericho and Triple H cheat for him. I at least have a _chance_ of beating Cena… God. I never thought I’d say that.”

Seth opened his mouth to groan about _Cena_ of all people being Smackdown’s champion, but then he heard Sami remark, “I keep hearing that Smackdown’s going to mutiny. Break off from the WWE entirely.”

Kevin echoed Seth’s own thoughts; “Can they even _do_ that?”

Seth saw Sami shrug as they passed by the locker room door; “At this point, I don’t think they have any other choice but to try.”

“Holy _shit_ ,” Seth breathed.

Bayley winced; “Holy shit is right.”

They kept following Roman’s trail until it lead to a private room with Roman’s name in a placard on the open door. Seth didn’t have to wonder for very long what could cause this silent, guarded Roman not to close the door behind him– through the open door he saw Roman being drawn into a stiff handshake by none other than Hunter. Bayley had to squeeze his hand hard enough that he felt some joints pop to keep Seth from running right in there and slamming him nose first into the concrete floor.

Hunter had that smarmy smile plastered on his face; “I think you showed everyone _exactly_ why you’re still our champion–“

Roman cut him off; “Are you serious? Why the _Hell_ is the Wyatt Family reject even getting the _chance_ for a title shot?” Seth jolted back at the same time as Hunter. There was raw frustration in Roman’s voice and all over his face, the most emotion this man had shown the whole night flying free and clear. He was almost _his_ Roman.

Hunter’s smile fell and he sighed, “Look, the orders came from Vince– He wanted AJ put in his place and… Well, you know what Vince thinks makes a champion–“

Roman rolled his eyes with his whole head; “Being huge, of course _I_ know that. More than _anyone_ I know that.”

Hunter patted Roman on the shoulder; “Look, the match won’t be long. We’ll have Jericho–“

“ _No_ ,” Roman snapped, shoving Hunter’s hand off his shoulder, “You _know_ how I feel about Jericho interfering. I _can_ beat him alone and I _will_. I’ll crush him and he’ll disappear, just like _everyone_ else.”

Hunter just stared at Roman, face caught between shocked at Roman’s display of emotion and offended that Roman would even _dare_ to speak to him like that. Roman caught that immediately and sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” Roman muttered, “It’s just… Yesterday was the first time I’ve seen my family since Summerslam and…”

In a split second, Hunter’s face completely changed. Seth had only seen him look like this down with NXT or with his flesh and blood children. Hunter was a man of many roles he switched in and out of when the moment called for them. Now, he had switched from the mask of the corporate king to the mask of the simple father.

Hunter’s hand was back on Roman’s shoulder and this time the champion didn’t remove it; “Things didn’t go well, huh?”

Roman shook his head, his voice soft but aching as he replied, “Galina and Joelle, they can’t watch me do– They can’t watch me work anymore. Joelle, she… She has nightmares. Not about me getting hurt but… me hurting people.”

Seth’s throat ached; Family was everything to Roman. He would’ve died for his girls. Bayley’s hand on his rooted him to the spot, kept him from running in there and throwing his arms around his brother.

Hunter squeezed Roman’s shoulder; “They know why you do this.”

“Of course they do,” Roman shot back, “I tell them all the time. It’s for them. All of this is for them.”

“You have to keep that at the front of your mind, always,” Hunter stated, looking Roman right in the eye, “If you don’t, you’ll lose focus. They’ll come around– You just have to keep moving forward.”

With one last clap on the shoulder, Hunter walked out of the room and disappeared down the hallway. Roman stood there for a little while longer, frozen in place, before suddenly throwing his title across the room with a roar. It smacked into the wall and clattered to the floor while Roman collapsed into a folding chair, hunching over to hold his head in his hands. 

Seth wanted the foreign and frightening emotionless monster from the ring back. This was too much. This was too familiar. This was _exactly_ what Seth had seen in his mind when he imagined what would happen to Roman alone, made even worse by the fact that now Seth knew who Roman was– Who he _should_ be. 

On Raw he was alone, but not this soul-crushingly lonely. At least the Usos, for all they were going down a dark path, still believed in their cousin. At least Galina and Jojo still thought of him as their hero. At least Dean– 

Wait.

Wait a minute.

Seth whirled around and grabbed Bayley by the shoulders; “Where’s Dean.”

Bayley just stared at him, eyes as wide as they could go and mouth clamped into a tight, thin line.

Seth shook her; “Where’s Dean?! What happened to him? _Where is he?!_ ”

Bayley swallowed hard; “This isn’t enough?”

Seth gritted his teeth; “You have to show me. I need to see him.”

Bayley frantically shook her head; “You don’t want to. I don’t want to show you… Please don’t ask me to do this…”

Seth took a deep breath in, held it for a moment, then let it out. He took both of her hands in his.

“He’s…” Seth had to take another shuddering breath, fighting through dense, thick layers of denial and lies he’d been building for years, before he slowly, finally said, “He’s my brother. I need to know.”

Bayley’s face softened immediately. She took a deep breath of her own, closed her eyes, and sighed, “Alright. Let’s go.”

 

 _Snap_.

 

The temperature dropped dramatically. The muffled commotion of Raw turned to a soft silence, the sound of wind rustling through trees and a car occasionally passing on a faraway street. Concrete beneath Seth’s shoes gave way to the softness of grass. He could see the stars above them. The cramped hallway had turned to wide open space, and all around them…

Graves.

Humble markers in the ground, simple headstones with names and sentiment carved on their faces, in the distance angels and crosses standing atop ornate spires, all around them for what looked like miles…

Seth’s hand flew to his face and his eyes shut tight; “No.”

Bayley’s voice ached with pity; “Seth…”

“Stop screwing with me,” Seth hissed, voice thick, “You think this is fucking funny?”

“This is what you wanted,” Bayley stated, “You asked for this.”

“No I didn’t,” Seth choked out, “I _told you_ to take me to Dean so you’d _better fucking take me to him right now_.”

Bayley’s hand on his wrist was gentle; “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

Seth dragged his hand down his face, whispering, “Please don’t make me look.”

Bayley just replied, “I didn’t want to.”

Seth’s hand fell to his side, his head drooped down and he opened his eyes. There was a marker in the ground, right next to his feet. It was filthy, with no flowers to be seen and the grass encroaching on the edges. It was almost too filthy to read.

Almost.

 

_Dean Jonathan Ambrose  
1985-2011_

 

Everything broke.

Seth collapsed to the ground, barely staying upright with one arm propping him up while the other raked through his hair. He sobbed his throat raw for his brother. 

Dean never got to the main roster. He never held the US Title. He never held the Intercontinental Title. He never became World Heavyweight Champion in the town he’d made his home. He never made enough money to help his mother leave her job. He never met Renee, the girl that left one of the best men Seth had ever seen on the mic tongue-tied and speechless. He’d never met Roman and found his best friend, his brother, his whole family… 

He’d never met Seth on a dark night in an alleyway, where they’d fought and Seth had realized this guy was too good _not_ to be in FCW. 

He and Seth had never feuded for FCW’s title on camera, a mirror of Seth’s struggle off-camera to get Dean to trust him. 

He and Seth had never gotten piss drunk at horrible cheap bars in Tampa, efforts to pull chicks turning into bar fights that turned into the two of them laughing themselves silly in a holding cell while Roman came to get them. 

He had never lain on the floor of Seth’s apartment going through withdrawal symptoms, Seth holding his hand and summarizing the entire plot of the Harry Potter series to him to keep his mind occupied. 

He’d never brutalized William Regal and had Seth _still_ fight tooth and nail against management to keep him. 

All those memories, too painful for either of them to touch but too important for either of them to throw away, were gone.

Bayley sat down in the grass across from him, fingers tracing the letters on Dean’s grave; “He did get to FCW. That had been his plan. But you weren’t there to light a fire under him. Roman had no reason to talk to him. So Dean did what he always did. He drifted in, then drifted out. He fell back into deathmatches and…”

“Enough,” Seth coughed, dragging himself up to sit crosslegged, “I… enough.”

Bayley looked him in the eye; “Do you get it now? Why I came to you? Why I showed you all of this?”

Seth nodded, but didn’t say anything. He wanted to hear her say it.

Bayley looked up at the stars; “You’ve made mistakes, and they can’t be taken back. But you can’t run away from them, either. If you’re alive, you have the chance to fix what you’ve broken.”

Seth leaned back, eyes focusing on a blinking satellite as it drifted across the sky; “Do you think they’ll let me?”

Bayley nodded; “If you prove to them that you’ve changed, absolutely. But it’ll be hard.”

Seth snorted, finally cracking a smile; “That’s never stopped me before.”

Bayley finally beamed, that goofy grin starting to fill up the hollow pit in Seth’s chest; “You sure? All the work you did in the indie circuit, developmental, fighting for the titles you’ve held… All that’s a cake walk compared to this.”

 “Well,” Seth laughed, “If getting to the end of this feels as good as all that did, then Hell yeah I’m sure.”

Bayley’s laugh finally made this angel’s decision to pretend to be her make perfect sense, because right now it was the most wonderful thing Seth had ever heard; “Alright, I’m holding you to that promise. I’d better not find you on anymore hotel rooftops, you hear me?”

Seth held up his hands with another laugh; “Yes, ma’am. You’ve got my word– And I’ll try to make that worth something.”

Bayley reached out and took his hand; “I know it will be.”

 

 _Snap_.

 

This time, the first thing Seth noticed wasn’t temperature, texture or sound. It was a person.

Bayley was gone.

In her place, Seth had a clear view across Davenport’s downtown all the way to the Mississippi River.

Beneath him was the Hotel Blackhawk’s roof, somehow familiar after all this jumping around. Seth struggled to his feet, cold wind and his own wobbly legs threatening to push him back down. For a moment, he just stood there, taking in the view.

He had to wonder… Had any of that been real?

Seth shook his head, balling his hand up into a fist. It wasn’t real anymore, because he was still here and he was still alive. And he was going to make things better, at Raw tomorrow he was going to–

Seth’s eyes went wide and he shouted into the night air, “Oh _FUCK!!!_ ” 

Seth flew down the stairs and out of the hotel, mind working at the pace of a bullet train while he ignored hotel staff giving him weird looks. He needed to book another flight _yesterday_ because it was four hours from Davenport to Tampa and that wasn’t even counting what could happen at the airport and _god he was such an idiot WHY DID HE LEAVE HIS PHONE HE COULD BE BOOKING A FLIGHT RIGHT NOW_.

Seth ran back to his house fast enough that he was sure he could’ve broken the sound barrier and got his already packed bags together just as quick. Maybe that angel had put a good word in with God for him because he managed to find and book a flight that’d be leaving soon– the only time Seth paused in his frenetic efforts to get out the door was to give his dog a big smooch on the head and tell him that he loved him with all his heart.

His dog had wagged his tail in return, so Seth supposed that meant he loved him back.

Seth got in late enough that he didn’t even bother with the hotel or working out; he knew where they were going next, so he just got the rental car he’d arranged for while pacing circles around his gate and broke several traffic laws on his way straight to the venue. Even though he was technically late, Seth took a special turn to drive along the way he always had coming home from FCW, smiling as the morning sun slid across the bank of windows reflecting the sea.

He was presented with yet more evidence that maybe that all had maybe been real, because the first person Seth saw when he got out of his rental car was Bayley. She was climbing out of the SUV she’d shared with Sasha Banks and far more appropriately dressed for the slightly chilly morning in a jacket and jeans, hair not pulled into her side-ponytail just yet.

Before he could stop himself Seth called out, “Bayley!” He’d run halfway across the parking lot before he noticed the incredibly confused look on her face and slowed his pace, shoving his hands in his pockets so he didn’t hug her.

Despite how baffled she looked, Bayley smiled at him; “Uh, hi Seth! What’s… up? Do you need something?”

Seth swallowed hard; Oh. Right. It hadn’t _actually_ been Bayley. How was he gonna salvage this and not freak her out? Sasha was standing behind her, arching an eyebrow so high it nearly hit her hairline. 

Seth’s casual laugh sounded more like a hoarse wheeze as he shrugged theatrically; “Oh no, I’m just… How was your Christmas?”

That seemed to be enough for Bayley, since her smile went back to being bright and full; “It was great! I haven’t seen my family in a while so that was awesome. How was yours?”

Seth blinked. What was a way to say “I got drunk nearly killed myself explored a timeline where I never existed with an angel that looked like you and decided to change the direction of my entire life” that was technically true but not quite that insane?

“Oh yeah it was good it was… uhm… enlightening,” Seth replied. Sasha’s other eyebrow leapt up and Seth realized he had failed.

Sasha stepped forward, putting a hand on Bayley’s shoulder as she asked, “Okay is there something you need? Because if there isn’t–“

Bayley cuffed Sasha on the shoulder; “Oh come on, Sasha, it’s fine. Seth and I used to talk all the time in FCW! I even remember one time when he gave me a ride home from a show–“ Seth’s face broke into a smile. _She remembered_.

“Yeah,” Seth cut in, “We drove by this place when Raw was here and we talked for hours about what we’d do when we got up here.”

“We sat outside on your car parked on the street,” Bayley laughed, “After everything we’ve done it almost feels silly, but… I’m excited to be performing here. I still remember what it was like to think of this place as ‘the big time’, you know what I mean?”

Seth didn’t think he could stop smiling if he wanted to; “Yeah. Yeah I do.”

The three of them started walking towards the venue, Sasha trailing a couple steps behind them and fixing Seth with a dirty look. He tried very hard to push his ego aside and not blame her. It was _so_ much easier to be humble and acknowledge his faults when he was drunk and alone. But Bayley smiling and talking about spending time with her brother over the holiday was a nice distraction from the pair of eyes burning holes in the back of his skull.

Seth had just started engaging in the conversation, telling Bayley about his dog, when they hit a roadblock at the entrance. A roadblock with his hair pulled back that made Seth’s throat go completely dry. Their paths had collided with Roman’s, and it was everything Seth could do not to run in and hug _him_ , too.

Seth and Roman stared each other down for a couple seconds before Sasha grinned wide and called, “Hey Roman!”

Seth brought up one hand in a weak, halfhearted wave, “Uh, hey…”

Roman frowned; “Hey.”

Seth cleared his throat; “H-how was your Christmas?”

Roman narrowed his eyes; “Fine.”

“Oh… Good…” Seth ran a hand through his hair, “Galina and Joelle are… doing good?”

Roman raised an eyebrow, looking almost exactly like his cousin; “Yes, they are.”

“Great! That’s… Really great…” Seth coughed, “My Christmas was… fine. My family’s fine.”

At this point, Sasha and Bayley had gone on ahead of them, leaving the two men alone in the entranceway. Seth wanted to move, wanted to leave, but he couldn’t. He had to do something, say something, say _anything_. Roman was still staring at him, jaw clenched tight and whole body tense, waiting for Seth to move so he could react.

Seth pulled his mouth into a cockeyed grin; “Uh, this is really late, but I… I never really congratulated you on winning the US Title so uh… Congratulations for that! You–“

“What are you doing, Seth?” Roman asked, shaking his head, “What do you want from me?”

Seth gulped; “I’m not… I know you won’t believe me but I’m not trying to pull anything and I don’t really… want anything.”

Roman furrowed his eyebrows; “Then why are you talking to me?”

Seth sighed, rubbing the back of his neck; “I’m just… trying to be a better person, I guess. I know it’s gonna take more than stuff like this but right here and now that’s all I got. It’s a place to start.”

Roman’s eyes widened; “ _You’re_ trying to be a better person? Since when have you cared about that?”

Seth couldn’t help but wince like Roman had physically hit him; “Well, honestly, since last night.”

Something in Roman’s face softened as he wondered, “You know you’ve got a long way to go, right?”

Seth nodded; “Yeah. But I think I can make it. I want to make it.”

Roman stared at him for a long time, saying nothing, just examining him with those intense eyes. Seth didn’t move, but he doubted he could if he wanted to. Roman’s gaze always did have a way of pinning you to the spot.

Finally, mercifully, Roman actually cracked a smile; “Well then, when you get to the finish line, I’ll be there waiting.”

Roman turned and walked into the venue; Seth watched him go, not even fighting the smile spreading across his face and the warmth blossoming in his chest. Seth finally remembered how to use his legs and walked through the entrance. Sasha and Roman were already far away, making small talk about the holiday, but Bayley had been waiting by the door. She looked between Seth and Roman, face somewhere between confusion and surprise.

Bayley let out a small, nervous giggle; “I _heard_ all that Shield stuff was complicated and weird, but actually getting to see it in person is something else…” She paused, pursed her lips, and looked Seth in the eye, “Did you mean what you said? About trying to be a better person?”

Seth nodded; “Absolutely.”

Bayley beamed at him; “Good. I think that’ll be better for everyone.”

Seth couldn’t help laughing, “I _know_ it will be.”

**Author's Note:**

> The effects of Seth's absence are a dramatization on my part– In all reality WWE probably would be fine (if drastically different) without The Shield having ever come up. I enhanced the negative because this is a take on It's A Wonderful Life.


End file.
